


Lonely After All

by leftofthehorizon



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Bat Family, Character Death, Depression, Dick and Jason are gonna be good brothers tho, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic, no relationships - Freeform, poor tim isn't having a good time, sick!Tim, suicide mention in later chapters, they're gonna try at least, this is all family kiddos
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-05-18
Packaged: 2018-09-22 20:27:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9624116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leftofthehorizon/pseuds/leftofthehorizon
Summary: Tim is sick and when he stops answering his phone Dick sends Jason to go check up on him, but Timmy hasn’t been doing as well on his own as he tries to let everyone believe.





	1. Just Checking In

Tim wasn’t sure whether it had been days or weeks since he’d last left his apartment. To be quite honest, he didn’t really have much motivation to at the moment: his head ached, his throat felt like sand paper, and he just generally felt like absolute shit. The clothes strewn about the floor of his room might have been more of an issue if he left his desk for anything other than the bathroom or kitchen, but he didn’t, so Tim saw no reason in tidying up. Or getting out of the house for that matter. After all, he was a much better detective than he was a crime fighter, at least compared to the rest of his “family”, so he wasn’t particularly hindered by the isolation, at least not as far as his work was concerned. And at least here he had the privilege of feeling terrible in peace. He wasn’t sure if, in the state he was in, he had the patience or energy to argue with Damian over everything under the sun.

He grabbed a few caffeinated mints from a nearly empty tin on his desk and ground them between his teeth, wondering if it would be worth going out to get more. This thought was interrupted by a sharp twinge of pain which rebounded around his skull. 

“Ah- “His hands shot up, pressing against his eyelids until the pain subsided and he was seeing stars. “Fuck…” he muttered to himself, and coughed into the crook of his arm. He’d started feeling sick back at the manor, which is what prompted him to get out of dodge before he was stuck there with the demon child, but he was starting to think that he may have been better off under Alfred’s care than his own. 

The room was freezing. If he couldn’t see the latch already shut, he might have assumed the window was open. He pulled a blanket off the floor and draped it haphazardly around his shoulders, turning to get back to work when another stabbing pain shot through his head. He sucked in a sharp breath and put his head to his desk, shaking.

This is death, he thought. This must be what it feels like to be dead. Tim considered calling Jason so he could verify this epiphany, but decided against it, as there was a very real chance that the vigilante might show up at his doorstep to confirm the theory. 

The dim glow from his computer screen illuminated the bedroom just barely enough for Tim to stumble his way over to his bed and collapse onto his comforter. Sleep. He just needed to sleep, how long had it been since he’d slept? He wasn’t sure.

No sooner had he let his eyes close and his body relax, then did his phone decide to interrupt him with the most obnoxious ringtone that Tim only just now realized that he _despised_. Not bothering to open his eyes he grabbed the phone and threw it across the room. Whoever needed him would have to find someone else, because Tim Drake was not getting out of this bed for _anything_.

* * *

It couldn’t have been more than thirty minutes before there was a knock on his door. 

Tim groaned and pulled his pillow over his head, hoping whoever it was would take a hint and leave him alone. 

Two knocks

No such luck apparently.

Begrudgingly he pulled himself out of bed and trudged his way across the apartment, running a hand through his hair in a halfhearted attempt to look somewhat presentable before opening the door just enough to see who was outside.

It was Jason.

Tim shut the door.

He heard the former Robin scoff, “Seriously? This is the greeting I get? And after I’ve come all this way to see you”

Tim sighed tiredly, leaning his head against the door, “I’m not in the mood to fight, Jason.” His voice sounded hoarse, even to him.

“Who said I’m here to fight?” Tim heard him jiggle the doorknob, “Listen I only showed up because apparently, you dropped off the face of the earth, and brother dearest was starting to get worried. Just let me get a good look at those chubby little richie rich cheeks of yours so I can get Golden Boy off my ass okay?”

So it was Dick who had tried to call him earlier. Noted.

He pulled the door back open to look at Jason, who was stood, arms crossed, eternally pissed off, on his doorstep, “I’ll call Dick in a minute, okay? You can leave.”

Jason snorted, “Gladly. See you around replac-…” He trailed off, his sarcasm fading into worry as he finally got a good look at Tim’s face, “Christ, Tim, you look like shit”

“Gee thanks”, he went to shut the door, only to find it blocked by the toe of Jason’s boot.

“ _I’m serious_ ,” Jason forced the door fully open, causing Tim to wince at the sunlight that suddenly illuminated his entire face, “What’s wrong with you, you look half dead.” He looked down at him, his face softening, almost as if he actually cared.

“If I didn’t know better I’d think you were worried about me,” Tim said, a subtly shaking hand raised to keep the sun out of his eyes, “I’m fine. Bye.”

Jason seemed unconvinced, but Tim couldn’t really care less. The moment the doorway was clear he shut the door and locked it.

* * *

Jason hadn’t gone to Tim’s apartment with the intention of actually doing anything. When Dick had called and asked him to “make sure Tim wasn’t dead”, he’d only been a couple of blocks away. Of course he still pitched a fit that he had to go out of his way to see the kid who’s very existence reminded him of just how little he’d mattered to Bruce, but it didn’t take too much arguing to get him to concede, if only to keep Dick off his back for a little while.

He hadn’t meant to spend any longer than absolutely necessary checking up on his spoiled replacement. He’d been so ready to stop by for a minute, insult an annoying teenager, text Dick and get on with his life.

But god damn it Tim just looked so… _sick_. 

Jason sighed and pushed his hair out of his eyes, muttering to himself, “Fuckin kid…” he pulled out a lock pick and started fiddling with the doorknob, “Fine my ass…”, the lock clicked and he opened the door.

“Tim? I’m coming in…” He stepped into the dimly lit apartment, and even by his standards the place was a mess, unwashed coffee mugs all over the counter, used tissues in a revolting pile on the table, and even Tim’s Red Robin suit draped carelessly over the back of the couch. He felt his lip curl in disgust and contempt. Of course. Kid doesn’t know how to do anything right. First thing someone sees as they walk through the door is Tim’s cover blown, and by extension the rest of the family’s. 

Jason grabbed the suit and pulled open the bedroom door, ready to rip him a new one, but the sound of coughing coming from the bathroom stoped him, and he remembered why he came in the first place. 

He opened the door to see Tim, down on the bathroom floor, trying desperately to catch his breath between coughs. Each inhalation is cut short by another round of dry, painful sounding coughs, and Tim’s eyes were red and wide with panic.

“Fuck- Tim..!”, Jason grabbed a half-filled glass of water from the edge of the sink and knelt down, handing it to him. Tim clutched at the glass with both hands, trying to get a sip in between coughs, eventually managing enough of a mouthful to clear his throat and get some air in. He gasped, taking short frantic breaths, his body shaking, whether with fear or fever Jason couldn’t tell. 

With the immediate danger gone Jason’s anger eclipsed his worry. He stood, throwing his head back in exasperation, “What the _hell_ are you doing living alone right now? You’re fucking sixteen Tim, are you tryina fuckin kill yourself?!” He shook his head, “God _fucking_ damn it…”

Tim was silent, save for his agitated, uneven breathing. 

“What the hell were you thinking?! Are you an idiot?!” Jason continued, rambling, until he caught sight of the flushed, bleary eyed adolescent staring up at him, and suddenly Tim looked so much… younger. He sighed, “Fuck… I…” He shook his head, “Are you okay? Can you breathe okay?” Tim nodded. “Good. Can you stand?” He looked down uncertainly, but nodded again. Jason took him by the arm and helped him up, keeping a hand on his shoulder to steady him just in case. 

He walked him over to the bed and sat down next to him on the edge. “Are you gonna be okay? Or am I gonna have to sit here and make sure you don’t drop dead all of a sudden.”

Tim rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand, “I-I’m okay now…” he pulled he knees up to his chest. 

Jason looked away. He felt awkward being there when Tim was so vulnerable. It made him feel almost guilty, retroactively, for the way he’d treated him before. He cleared his throat and stood. “Alright then… uh… good. I’m gonna go. Okay?” Tim nodded, turning over on his side so that his back was to Jason.

Jason walked out, pushing his hair back nervously as he pulled out his cell phone. 

“Hey Dick? I might need your help on this one…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if either of them seemed super out of character, I was trying to balance their usual character traits with how I think they'd react to the situation (and I like to think that Jason does care deep down). This is the first fiction I've written in a while, and I know I'm pretty rusty so any comments or criticisms are very welcome. Hope that was somewhat enjoyable and the next chapter should be up within the next week.


	2. I'm Fine

_Tim was being buried alive._

_He was lying at the bottom of a pit (a grave?), as one by one, everyone he knew threw shovelfuls of dirt over top of him. Jason looked down at him from above, standing on the mound of earth that covered his chest, and grinned._

_“This is the way things should have been.”_

He woke with a start. There was something on top of him, oh god he was buried alive, he was buried alive and now he’s going to die, fuck, _fuck_. He forced his eyes open a crack to assess his situation. Blankets. Of course, he remembered, Jason had been here. He’d… helped him? Tim propped himself up on his elbows. No that couldn’t be right… the last time he and Jason were in the same room they’d tried to kill each other. Or, Jason had tried to kill him rather.

He sat up fully and rubbed at his eyes. Whatever had been wrong with him the last few weeks was definitely worse now. His headache had grown to a constant dull pounding against the back of his eyes, and he felt like he’d swallowed a handful of knives every time he coughed. Speaking of coughing, a faint tickle had begun at the back of his throat. He tried to cough once to clear it out, but winced at the pain, then groaned and let himself fall back in exasperation.

“W-What’d you do to yourself this time Drake…” He sighed, closing his eyes. 

A faint clink sounded from the kitchen. Tim looked up again. He wasn’t alone? How the hell did someone get in his kitchen. There was no way Jason had stuck around, if he’d even been there at all (Which Tim was in no way convinced of). Another clatter conformed the reality of at least whoever was in the apartment at that moment. 

He stood, grabbing a pen knife from his dresser and moved cautiously to the bedroom door. He needed a plan. Okay. Whoever was there was in the kitchen, likely with his back to him, if he could just get a good look before he was seen… 

He stepped around the corner slowly, quietly and looked up to see Dick staring at him, a half-washed mug in hand. A wave of relief passed over him, “Oh, it’s you. I thought someone broke in.”

A characteristically playful grin spread across Dicks face, “I did break in.” Tim scoffed and Dick shook his head, correcting himself, “Well, Jason did the actual ‘breaking in’ part. And far too easily mind you. Y’know Bruce’d have your head if he knew how easy it was to get in here.” He grabbed a dish towel and dried off his hands as he walked over.

“Yeah. I know.” Tim said curtly, averting his eyes, “I’m a mess, I’m sorry.”

“Aw Timmy don’t gimme that sad face, I’ll cry, you know I will,” he put the back of his hand to Tim’s forehead.

Tim took an instinctive step back, “Look Dick I appreciate you coming out here and all, but I don’t need your help.”

Dick cocked an eyebrow, “Really? So, you’re telling me you’re perfectly fine here on your own. In tip top shape are we? Best time of your life?” He crossed his arms. “Why are you lying to me Tim. I’m trying to help you.”

“And I’m telling you that I don’t want or need your help!” He was acting like a little kid, but he didn’t care. He just wanted everyone to leave him alone, why was that so hard?!

Dick looked at him, something between disapproval and concern in his eyes. Tim held his gaze, determined to win some unspoken contest of will. 

Dick sighed, “We’re worried about you. No one’s heard anything from you since you walked out on the manor last month, you won’t answer my calls, and now whatever happened last night had Jason convinced you were going to suffocate in your sleep.” 

Tim looked away. 

Dick put a hand on his shoulder, “Just let me make sure you’re okay Tim. For my own sake.”

Tim sighed, “Fine.”

Dick smiled, “Thanks Timmy.” Tim rolled his eyes as Dick walked back over to look though a duffle bag on the counter, “Alright, so I brought a thermometer, some cough drops, ibuprofen, the works. Plus a few cans of ginger ale, but don’t get your hopes up, I checked, no caffeine.” He walked over, thermometer in hand, “Open up.”

“I can do it myself thanks” Tim took it from him, “I’m sixteen.”

Dick put his hands up in mock defense, “Fine, fine. Just as long as it gets done.” 

Tim pressed the button and stuck the cold metal under his tongue, “ ‘o when are y’ g’nna-“

Dick put a finger up, “Hey, no talking until it beeps” 

Tim rolled his eyes but kept his mouth shut for another minute or so until the thermometer went off. He took it out and looked at it for a second.

“So?”

“102.3”

Dick chewed on the corner of his lip, “You didn’t take your temperature, yesterday did you? I should really take you to a doctor if it’s up that high for longer than a day or so…”

“No, no its fine. I did.” Tim lied, “I was fine yesterday. No fever.”

Dick crossed his arms uncertainly, “Are you sure? When did the cough start?”

“Just a couple of days ago, Dick I’m fine it’s probably just a cold.” Tim ran the thermometer under cold water for a moment, destroying the evidence. He wasn’t sure was he was lying. He just… needed Dick to trust him to be okay on his own. He needed to prove that he was just as capable as the rest of them. He needed-

“Tim? You in there buddy?”

“Huh?” He looked up. The cold water had numbed his hand. 

“I said, that I’ve gotta run back to Bludhaven for a bit. I’ll be back sometime tomorrow”

Tim sighed, “Fine. Whatever.”

Dick smiled, giving him a quick hug, “Don’t hesitate to call if you need something!” He started out the door, turning around at the last second, “Oh, and Jay’s gonna stop by later. I asked him to keep an eye on you since you’re here alone and you’re sick and all. Love you, bye!”

“Hey, wait-!” The door closed. Tim scoffed. Of course. Now he was getting a babysitter. And Jason of all people. Just wonderful. He laid back on the couch and closed his eyes. Why didn’t they trust him. He was just as capable as they were, if not more so. Ridiculous. 

He sighed. Looks like Damian was right.

He tried not to let that thought eat at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is going to explain why Tim is so dead set on being self sufficient right now. I already have most of it written so it should be up in a few days.


	3. Breaking Point

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We find out what happened to make Tim so set on being self sufficient. A bit of a warning for suicidal thoughts towards the end.

**One Month Ago**

The sounds of combat echoed through the cave as Damian pushed Tim further back towards the wall. He gritted his teeth and gave the kid a roundhouse kick to the chest, which Damian quickly grabbed, using the momentum to throw Tim to the ground.

He sneered, “This hardly counts as training if I win every round, Drake.”

Tim glared at him, pushing himself back up to his feet and wiping the sweat off his forehead. He wasn’t usually this sloppy, was he? He could normally take Damian with both hands tied behind his back… at least he thought he could. “Shut up.” He said dropping back into a fighting stance, his fists raised, “Let’s go again.”

Damian shook his head, “If you say so.” He ran at Tim, jumping over him before grabbing his forearm to pull him off balance. Tim quickly readjusted and swept his staff into the back of Damian’s knees. The young Robin crumpled momentarily, but used the vantage point to grab Tim’s ankle and pull him to the floor whilst pulling himself back up. Tim was thrown onto his back hard, knocking the wind out of him. He lay there gasping for air for a moment as Damian looked down at him in mock sympathy. 

“Don’t feel too bad, there was no way your mediocre training could ever match my years of experience. Or any of the others’ really.”

Tim sat up, still trying to catch his breath, “W-… Whats that… s-supposed to mean?”

The demon child smirked, “Oh come on, you had to have realized that you were the least qualified Robin by far. You’re just proving it now.”

“Stop it, I’m not-… I don’t- I just don’t feel well-“

“Sure. Whatever you need to think to sleep at night. But just ask yourself Drake. Are you really up to snuff?” He crossed his arms, “because everyone else knows you’re not.”

Tim felt like he’d been punched in the throat. That wasn’t true. It couldn’t be- “You’re just being a brat Damian that’s not-“

“It is. Mental manipulation isn’t my thing and you know it. I’d rather get right to the point.” He looked at him, making pointed eye contact, “You were just Todd’s replacement. That’s all you ever were.”

A white-hot flash of fury clouded Tim’s vision and he lunged at him. Damian blocked his attacks with ease. “You want me to go easy on you Drake? Would that make it hurt less? Well my grandfather never went easy on anyone, and neither do any of the villains in Gotham. Just ask Todd, or Grayson even. You know, someone who actually knows how to fight”

He kicked Tim in the chest, _hard_ , sending him back a good couple of feet. Another kick had him flat on his back, Damian stood over him.

“Face it. The only reason you ever became Robin, was because Father was desperate, and the only reason anyone keeps you around now, is because it’s too much trouble trying to get rid of you.”

* * *

Tim was awakened by a round of painful coughs and a rhythmic pounding in his head. The nauseating smell of cigarettes that permeated the room meant that Jason was already inside the apartment, and Tim silently cursed Dick for encouraging his return. Jason was the last person Tim wanted to be stuck with right now.

He pulled himself up off the couch, swaying a little, and made his way to the, thankfully empty, kitchen. He grabbed the coffee pot and filled it with water.

“Are you fucking kidding me? You’re up for less than a minute and this is your first priority?” 

Tim jumped, nearly dropping the pot in the sink. Jason was staring at him from the doorway, seemingly caught somewhere between disgust and shock.  
Jason shook his head, “You know, if I were you I’d be more concerned about the strange man in your apartment.”

“Dick told me you were coming” Tim went back to making his coffee. Hopefully it would clear his head enough so he could convince Jason to leave.

He heard a huff, “Boy Wonder always takes the fun out of everything. Although with the lack of security on this place I’m sure I could hide around a corner to scare your socks off some other time.” Tim ignored the jab. He knew he should really be more careful, but he hadn’t been planning on staying here this long.

He poured himself a mug and took a sip. It was bitter and burning, but the heat helped his throat some and over years of drinking it to stay awake long nights on patrol, he’d grown used to the taste of black coffee.

“Aren’t you going to offer me some?” Jason called, still standing in the same spot across the room.

Tim made his way back to the couch and sat, “Nope.” 

Jason rolled his eyes, “Figures the rich kid never learned manners”

Tim felt his throat tighten, but he held his tongue. He can hold his own against Jason usually, but right then he really didn’t have the energy to fight with him. He pulled his legs up onto the couch and rested his chin on his knees, aware of how childish it made him look, but he didn’t care. He’d felt awful for over a month now and he wasn’t going to make himself uncomfortable for the sake of pride. Besides, it’s not like he was going to earn Jason’s respect now anyway.

The aforementioned vigilante was currently in his kitchen, pouring himself a cup of coffee, grumbling something about inconsiderate assholes. Tim tried to tune him out. Maybe if he ignored him Jason would take the hint and go away…

“Hey Replacement, am I gonna have to make conversation for the both of us all day?”

Tim looked back over towards the kitchen tiredly, “It hurts to talk. Leave me alone.”

Jason’s eyes softened slightly. Tim looked away. He didn’t need pity, not from Jason of all people. Hell, he alone has probably fucked Tim up more than some stupid cold ever could. Tim could count on one hand the times Jason had been even halfway decent towards him. Why should things change now. 

He remembered wandering the streets of Gotham as a kid, wanting more than anything to meet Robin, to meet Jason, and impress him. Tim probably still had some old photographs of Jason and Bruce in a box somewhere. He wondered if anyone would want them, or if seeing them would just make them hate him all the more. 

“Tim. Tim, are you with me buddy?” Jason’s hand was on his shoulder. When did Jason get over here?

“Huh?” Tim blinked, looking up at him, “W-What do you mean?”

“You spaced out for a solid minute.” Jason had that expression again. The one Tim could almost mistake for concern. As if he cared.

Tim shook him off, “I’m fine. Sorry I just…” Come on Drake, excuses, you’re good at these. “I was just thinking I guess.” Wow. Stellar. He wouldn’t have fooled anyone with that let alone a bat.

Jason was predictably unconvinced, “Sure kid. You’re gonna fuckin get yourself killed if you’re hiding shit, you know that, right?”

Tim snorted, “Like you’d care.”

Jason crossed his arms, “What’s that supposed to mean”

Tim gave him a hard look, “As if you don’t know.” He pushed his bangs out of his face. His hair was disgusting. He needed a shower. He stood. “Listen Jay, I don’t need you to pretend to give a shit about me because I’m sick. I’ve got Dick for that. So kindly fuck off.” 

Jason stood in front of him, blocking his path, “Alright first of all Replacement, no one is pretending to give a shit. Not me, and especially not Dick.”

“Really?” Tim scoffed, “Could have fooled me. Tell me, did any of you notice when I stopped patrolling? Or stopped checking in at the cave? I could have been dead for weeks and you would have only showed up because I wasn’t around to answer whatever meaningless question Dick called about yesterday. So I don’t need you to pretend to give a shit now, because you clearly don’t. No one does.”

Anger flared in Jason’s eyes, “Don’t you act for a second like nobody cares about you, because last I remembered, you had a great life, with living rich ass parents, plus _my identity_ , fucking _Robin_ to boot.” He grabbed Tim by his shirt collar, “Don’t act like perfect little Timmy wasn’t the best replacement there ever was for the Robin nobody could be bothered to save!”

Tim stumbled when Jason pulled him forward, scowling at him as he caught his balance, “Well, I guess you’re stupider than you look. Bruce never wanted me as Robin. I took the job because you were _dead_ Jason, and by all logic not coming back. Besides, Dick replaced me the first chance he got anyways. So I wasn’t your replacement. I was just the fucking temp that took the job while they found someone they actually wanted.”

Jason’s glare faltered, “Dick did what?”

“Gave Damien Robin. Fucking snatched it out from under my nose,” Tim clenched his fists, pulling out of Jason’s grip and pushing past him, “And for the record Jason. Jack is dead. Shot. Months ago. So I’m down to zero living parents, thanks for asking.”

“Tim… I…” Jason seemed at a loss for words, “Listen… I’m sorry okay… I know I’m not great at this… family stuff. But-“

Tim scoffed, turning to give Jason a cold stare, “Please. Don’t include me in the “family” bullshit, because I know for a fucking fact that you and Damian would both be much happier if I were dead.”

He stormed into his room and slammed the door. His hands were shaking. Strike that. His whole body was shaking, god when did he start crying. He wiped at his eyes angrily.

They all probably thought he’d be better off dead.

He wished he didn’t agree with them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if the ending was a bit rushed, its 2 am and I really wanted to get this posted. And thank you so much to everyone who has commented! Seriously the comments are 90% of my motivation to write a lot of the time it honestly means so much to me that people are enjoying this at all.


	4. Doctor's Office

Jason stared at the closed door. He was at a complete loss. He’d always assumed that Red Robin was something like an upgrade for Tim. That he’d been promoted, not thrown aside like last week’s paper.

He pushed his hair back, pacing now. How could Dick just take Robin from Tim? This was the guy who’d been so goddamn pissy when Bruce gave it to Jason, even though Dick had _quit_. He knew how it felt, so how could he- how could he even imagine- Jason clenched his fist. He had half a mind to drive down to Bludhaven and punch the prick in his perfect teeth.

But muffled coughs from the other room brought Jason back to reality. Oh god, Tim. His heart sank as he remembered all of the _other_ things Tim had said. The things Jason couldn’t pin on Dick. How many times had _he_ attacked the kid? Or questioned his skills? Or just called him his replacement. It was no wonder Tim thought no one cared about him.

He knocked on the door, “Hey, are you alright in there?”

“Go away.” Tim’s voice sounded hoarse.

“That didn’t answer my question.”

“I’m fine”

Jason shook his head, “I need proof. I can’t take your word for it when you sound like a chain smoker.”

Tim gave a short bark of a laugh, “Says the actual chain smoker. Those things’ll kill you”

Jason rolled his eyes, “I don’t need to be reprimanded about self-care by the kid who gets two hours of sleep a night.”

Silence.

He sighed, “Just open the door Tim.”

The door opened a crack, and Jason could just barely see the teen standing in the dark, he snorted, “Step into the light a bit. You’re just like Bruce, hiding in the shadows.”

Tim rolled his eyes, stepping forward slightly. “Do you believe me now? Can you leave me alone” He looked pale. He looked young. Another pang of guilt echoed through Jason’s chest when he noticed the faint tear tracks that Tim had tried to rub away. God, why had he been arguing with a sick kid? Was he that much of an asshole?

He shook his head, “Yeah, no. You look like shit Timbo. Put on a jacket I’m taking you to a doctor.”

Tim went even paler, something Jason wouldn’t have thought possible a moment ago, “What?! No- Jason- I-“

Jason put up a hand, “Save it. You look like you’re going to keel over any second, and I’d rather that not happen on my watch.”

The young detective scowled up at him, which might have been threatening if he didn’t look like he could be knocked over by a light breeze, “You can’t tell me what to do Jason.” He crossed his arms.

Jason laughed out loud; he couldn’t help it. Tim looked like an angry kitten. “Oh my god I keep forgetting you’re sixteen. Get a jacket on, Tim. We’re going.” He walked back toward the entryway, leaving Tim stood in the doorway, torn between shock and annoyance.

Jason pulled on his own jacket and tossed Tim a windbreaker from the hall closet, which he reluctantly put on, glaring at Jason the entire time.

They walked out to the car and got in. Jason turned to Tim, who appeared to still be pouting in the passenger’s seat. “Alright so where are we headed.”

Tim’s brow furrowed in confusion, “What are you talking about?”

“You wanna go to the cave, or I can take you to a regular pediatrician. It’s up to you.” 

“Oh. Uh… not the cave.” Tim seemed surprised he was being given a choice.

Jason turned the key and the engine growled to life, “Doc it is then.”

 

* * *

Tim deduced that there were absolutely no comfortable ways to sit on a medical examination table. It was so cold that he was nearly convinced that someone had deliberately chilled it just before he and Jason had been told to wait in that room, and now there was nothing but a sheet of paper and his sweatpants separating the ice-cold table from the backs of his legs. 

The room he was in could not have been more childishly decorated, from the sailboat decals on the cabinets to the bright baby blue walls. Being there made him feel less like a skilled detective and vigilante, and more like a helpless little kid.

He sighed, leaning his head against the wall and closing his eyes. There was something about being in a doctor’s office that made it impossible to ignore how awful he was feeling.

“You alright?” A concerned voice called from across the room. Tim looked up, he kept forgetting Jason was here. Jason Todd, of all people, was the one who was going out of his way to get Tim help. Who’d have thought.

“No” Tim replied miserably, “I can’t tell if I’m going to throw up or pass out or both.” Noticing Jason’s worried look, he added, “I’m joking. Mostly.”

Their attempts at conversation were cut off by a woman, a doctor Tim presumed, entering the room. Tim estimated she was around her mid-forties, and she was holding a clipboard, presumably with his information on it. She looked down, reading off the top sheet of paper, “So, Tim, is it?” He nodded. 

She noticed Jason sitting across from them and turned to face him, “And you are?”

Jason stood, giving a half wave in greeting, “I’m his brother.” 

Tim felt an unexpected warmth in his chest at being considered family. Even if it was only for a doctor’s visit. 

The woman smiled politely, “I see. So, what brings you here today.” She was asking Jason, but Tim answered from over on the table.

“Just a cold, probably. Sore throat, headache, the works.” He was hoping she wouldn’t ask many questions. He just wanted to go home. He wasn’t sure if that meant the manor or the apartment.

The doctor (she had to have a name, had she told Jason her name?), scribbled something down on the clipboard, “any other symptoms?”

He averted his eyes awkwardly, “Um… not really. I guess fever, nausea, fatigue… I don’t know. My chest hurts too.” He put his hand on his sternum, as if the doctor needed to know where his chest was located. 

Jason decided to pipe in from across the room, “He has a pretty bad cough too. And he’s been really disoriented. Not himself.” Tim nearly scoffed, as if Jason knew what he was usually like.

The doctor wrote down some more notes before walking over to Tim with a stethoscope and some other things he didn’t immediately recognize. 

“Alright, I’m going to listen to your lungs okay?” She didn’t wait for his response, and pressed the cold metal against his chest. He shivered. 

She ran through a variety of common medical assessments, frowning and scribbling twice. Once when she listened to his heart, and once when she took his temperature. 

She seemed to be finishing up with some final questions, asking his age and other similar things. After a moment, she looked up from her papers. “About how long ago did you start experiencing symptoms?” 

Now he had a choice. Lie to the doctor, or have Jason catch him in a lie he’d told earlier, he hesitated, “I… I’m not really sure.”

“Can you estimate? A week maybe?” She held eye contact. Fuck she wasn’t letting this go.

He looked away, “More like a month. Maybe longer.” He tried to ignore Jason staring at him.

The doctor seemed troubled by this, but wrote it down and continued, “Alright… Anything else I should know?”

“No-“

Jason cut him off, “He had his spleen removed. I dunno if that’s relevant, but I know he gets sick more easily because of it.”

She nodded, “Yes. Thank you.” She made a note and walked to the door, “Wait here, I’ll be back in just a moment.”

The second the door shut Jason was up and across the room, livid. “A _month_ ”

Tim refused to look at him, “Jason, I-“

“An _entire_ month”

“It’s not like it was that bad-“

Jason put a hand up. “You’d better hope there is something _seriously_ wrong with you. Otherwise I’m gonna beat your ass for being so _damn_ irresponsible.”

Tim thought it would be unwise to point out the hypocrisy in that statement.

The doctor came back in a minute later with a cotton swab and a fairly large needle, which Tim involuntarily tensed at the sight of. 

She put her things down on the table and started prepping the syringe, “I think you’ve likely just got a bad case of strep throat, but considering everything else I’ve ordered a blood test to rule out other possibilities.” She turned, needle in hand, “Pull up your shirt sleeve please.”

Tim looked up to Jason for… help? Emotional support? He wasn’t sure. But Jason was far past the point of tolerating Tim’s reluctance to seek medical attention, even if this time it was out of fear rather than pride.

He sighed shakily and pulled up his sleeve and looked away. He was being ridiculous. Childish even. He’d dealt with so many worse things why should he be afraid of a little- _oh god it was touching him it was inside his arm fuck **fuck-**_

And then it was done. He’d clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles had gone white, and his fingernails left marks on his palms. 

The doctor continued, now holding a vial of his blood, seemingly unaware of the emotional turmoil she’d put him through. She pulled a long cotton swab out of a sterile package, “I’ve got to swab the back of your throat with this. Open your mouth.”

He did so, reluctantly, and nearly gagged as she scraped the stick painfully against the back of his throat. He coughed harshly as she pulled it out, and he couldn’t help but wonder if this woman was out to get him for some reason.

She sealed the sample in a bag and turned to Jason, who was now standing again, looking at Tim with a glint of concern in his eyes, “The lab results will be in after a few days, we’ll give you a call when we have them.”

He nodded, “Thanks. So, we’re free to go?”

She nodded professionally, “Just sign out at the front desk.” 

Tim followed Jason out of the office, his throat still twinging with discomfort, and his arm aching. He clambered into the car and looked out the window, deliberately avoiding looking his unexpected caregiver. 

“We’re going to talk about that later you know. I’m not just letting you get away with doing shit like that.”

Tim gave an indignant huff, “You sound like Dick.”

Jason shut up. 

They drove in silence for a minute before he spoke up again, “I’m trying to help you Tim.”

“Now you really sound like Dick”

“I’m serious.”

“I know. That’s why.” Tim rubbed at his eyes, “I’m not used to you being this serious. Or being serious at all. I didn’t think you gave a shit honestly.”

Jason kept his eyes on the road, “Well I do.” 

Tim stared in surprise for a moment at the man sitting next to him, at his brother. There was no glint of sarcasm or mockery that he could detect on Jason’s face. 

He leaned his head back against the seat, relaxing fully for the first time in a while.

“Thanks.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wasn't going to be up so soon but in some cruel twist of fate I was sick today, so y'all get your chapter a few days early. Comments are always appreciated! Also everyone's favorite Dick Grayson should be back next chapter so you have that to look forwards too!


	5. Blame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slow update, I meant to have this out Thursday but I got caught up with school stuff. Hey, at least I posted at all, and not at 3am this time! So thats a plus (though I did write most of this from 1-4am this morning)  
> Because I realize I didn't make it explicitly clear, these are the boy's ages as far as this fic goes  
> Dick- 23  
> Jason- 19  
> Tim- 16  
> Damian- 11

“ _Hey Dickhead, get your ass back to the Replacement’s place pronto. We’re gonna have a conversation._ ”

Dick replayed the short voicemail for what had to be the fifth time as he pulled up as close as he could to Tim’s building. There was an edge to Jason’s voice that made him uneasy, and Dick could only hope that his little brothers hadn’t been fighting in his absence. Especially if Tim was as sick as he appeared to be. 

The cold November air that had numbed his fingers on the motorcycle ride to Gotham now made him regret neglecting to grab a scarf that morning. He popped up the collar of his jacket in an attempt to fend off the icy wind as he walked the half block to the door.

After climbing the ten or so flights of stairs to Tim’s apartment, Dick was surprised to see Jason standing outside the door, waiting for him. Oh dear, they’d probably been fighting. It had been stupid to leave them alone together, he should have known better than to ask Jason to play babysitter.

He forced a smile as he approached the agitated vigilante, “Hey Jace, how’d it-“

Jason put up a finger, “We’ll talk inside. I’m out only here greeting you because the kid’s asleep and I don’t want your obnoxious chattering to wake him up.” Okay so they hadn’t fought? Dick wasn’t sure if that was better or worse, as it likely meant that _he’d_ been the one to do something worthy of Jason’s wrath. 

Despite his concerns, he still gave the younger man an easy smile, “For the record, my chatter is delightful, but I’ll be quiet since you asked so nicely.” Jason rolled his eyes, but opened the door to let him in.  
The first thing Dick saw as he walked into the (noticeably cleaner) apartment was a sickly pale version of his little brother curled up on the couch asleep. Well. That explained why Jason had been so keen on talking to him outside. He walked over to the couch and rested the back of his hand to the teenager’s forehead. Tim’s face scrunched up in discomfort and he curled up tighter into the blanket he was cocooned it, though not quickly enough for Dick to not have already detected the worrying level of heat radiating from him.

“Hey- Don’t wake him up, damn kid never sleeps,” Jason stage whispered from the entryway. Dick smiled and crossed back over to him.

“Aw you’re worried about him, Jason that’s so sweet.” As much as he was making fun, Dick was glad to see his brothers finally getting along, even under less than ideal circumstances.

Jason’s expression hardened, “Yeah. Well somebody ought to.”

Dick frowned. Jason was angry at him? About Tim? That didn’t make sense. But the stony expression on the younger man’s face confirmed Dick’s assessment. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that the kid is under the impression that no one gives a shit about him. Not that I can blame him, seeing as _you_ snatched Robin out from under him to give to the demon spawn” Jason’s eyes were dark and humorless. Dick felt his throat tighten. Tim thought he didn’t care about him? He glanced back at the sleeping teenager behind him. 

He swallowed, trying to push back the guilt that threatened to overwhelm him, “No… Tim- he… he had Red Robin.”

Jason sneered, “Oh yeah I’m sure if feels great to resort to some backup identity when you’re fired from the role that defined you. By your ‘brother’ no less.” Jason’s face darkened, “And so soon after his dad died. And the we all thought B. died. Kid lost _everything_ , but you just had to take it one step further, didn’t you?”

Dick shook his head desperately, “No, Jason I-… I didn’t mean to hurt him its just… Damian needed-“

The bitterness in Jason’s laugh sent a shiver down Dick’s spine, “Damian? Right. Yeah. Makes sense to favor the murderous psychopathic kid over the one who actually needed you. You remember the brat tried to kill Replacement, right?”

Dick’s temper flared at the jab towards Damian, “Like you didn’t? You won’t even use his fucking name Jason!” What right did Jason have to criticize his decisions. Had _he_ been there when Bruce was gone? No. It had been Dick on his own trying to make the right decisions, and Tim could handle being replaced better than Dami would handle his father’s death without some sort of outlet. Dick had done what he’d had to do.

Jason took an angry step towards him, raising his voice as he approached, “You’ve got no _fucking_ right to criticize me.”

Dick scoffed, “And you’ve got one to pick apart everything I did?! Jason I did what I had to!”

“You just fuck people over with no concern for their wellbeing! Admit it!” Jason was dangerously close to snapping, but Dick was too angry to care.

“You know what Jason, I don’t think you’re even mad about Tim. I think you’re just still bitter because you don’t think I did enough for _you_!” 

That was the final straw. Jason lunged at him, grabbing his shirt collar, ready to attack him when the tension in the room was shattered by a faint noise coming from the couch behind Dick. He whipped his head around to see Tim, sitting up and staring at them. The empty hollowness in the teen’s dark sunken eyes melted Dick’s residual anger. God what had he been doing? Picking fights when Tim was sitting here looking like a kicked puppy. 

Dick pulled away from Jason’s grip and moved over to the couch, sitting down next to Tim and speaking gently, “Hey, Timmy… We-… We’re sorry we woke you up. You should get back to sleep.”

Tim shook his head, “D-Dick…”, Dick cringed at the how painfully hoarse Tim’s voice sounded, he seemed to struggle to get the words out “I’m not mad… that you gave Robin to Damian. I-I… I just… It…” He looked down, “It was everything I had left.” 

Dick could feel his heart breaking at the pain he’d caused. He pulled Tim into a hug, and the normally stoic crimefighter crumpled in his arms, shaking. Dick held him tightly, “I’m so sorry Tim… I’m so sorry…” He didn’t know what else to say, Tim seemed practically on the verge of tears, so he just repeated himself over and over, softly comforting him until he calmed down enough to pull away and rub at his eyes with the edge of his sleeve.

An awkward cough from the other end of the room reminded Dick of Jason’s presence in the apartment. Unable to determine at a glance if Jason was angry or concerned, Dick called him over with a jerk of his head, deciding that regardless towards their mutual frustration at the moment, at least Jason’s newfound concern for Tim was genuine. Shooting Dick a pointed glare, he walked over to sit on Tim’s other side.

Trying to distract from Jason’s anger and Tim’s obvious embarrassment at having broken down in front of them, Dick resorted to mundane conversation, “So… um… what did you two do all day?”

It was Jason who answered, albeit a bit stiffly, “Did what shoulda been done weeks ago, and took Replacement to the doctor.” Dick frowned. Jason was right, he was the one who was supposed to make sure Tim was safe. When had he started slacking off so badly.

Tim bristled, taking the jab as an insult to him, “I’m fine. She said it was probably just strep throat.” 

“Yeah well then you shoulda been on antibiotics ages ago kid.” Jason’s tone was noticeably softer when he spoke directly to Tim. Dick couldn’t help but smile at him. Jason being mad at him he could handle, but it killed him when his brothers didn’t get alone. He was glad that was starting to change.

Jason looked back over at Dick, “He got a blood test too. Results’ll be in after a couple days and they’ll let us know if he’s on his deathbed or something lame like that.”

Tim snorted, “You would know.” 

Dick grinned at Jason’s look of mock offense, “Don’t be mean Timmers, Jay’s not over his tragic death.”

Jason put a hand over his heart in a gesture of theatrical betrayal, “It was _traumatic_. You’re both heartless.”

An alert on Dick’s cellphone interrupted their family bonding moment. He checked the message and frowned, “Breakout at Arkham. We’ve got to go. Now.” He stood pulling his Nightwing costume out of his bag. He turned to see Jason and Tim both standing, moving to get ready. He shook his head, “Tim. Stay here.” 

The sickly young detective opened his mouth to protest but Jason cut him off, “I’m with Dickbrain on this one kid. You’ll just get hurt.”

Tim huffed, but sat back down and waited while the older two went off and changed into their gear. Dick ruffled his hair as he walked past towards the door, “Don’t get in any trouble while we’re gone Timmy!” He met Tim’s glare with a trademark grin. Of course, he knew Tim was more than capable of helping them normally, but he was sick and out of practice, so Dick was putting him on house arrest.

* * *

The moment the door latched shut Tim was up across the room and pulling on his costume. Like hell he was going to sit this one out because of a stupid sore throat. He ignored the voice in his head telling him that it was really much worse than that, and that he should listen to his brothers- No. They were just trying to keep him out of the way. Like always. Well he’d show them how useful he could be. 

He downed a handful of painkillers to numb his various aches and pains. Taking twice the recommended dose was a bad habit, but he figured that some thug with an itchy trigger finger would probably kill him before the liver damage did. 

Tim climbed out his bedroom window onto the fire escape and grappled to the nearest adjacent rooftop, stumbling a bit as he landed. Jason was right, he was out of practice. But despite that, and despite how gross he felt, it really was nice to be back out in costume. He’d missed this.

Ignoring the pain running brought, Tim took off towards Arkham.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure I'm entirely happy with the way this chapter came out but w/e. I'll try to start the next chapter today so its finished within a week or so. Sorry for the delay! Also I'm deciding between ending this in two or three more chapters, or stretching it into something longer and bringing Damian and Tim's relationship in the family into the spotlight a bit more. Lemme know what you'd rather have!


	6. Cold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so long! I meant to get it out last week but life got in the way. I think its the longest I've posted though so hopefully that makes up for it some.

Tim could hear the breakout before he saw it.

Gunshots and screams echoed through the streets, the chaos of Gotham’s worst at their very worst again. Still a couple of streets away, Tim paused on a rooftop to catch his breath and get his bearings. From what he’d gathered listening in on his brothers’ chatting over the coms, Freeze was the only one known to have actually escaped. The real threat as of now was all of the low-level criminals coming out of the woodwork to take advantage of the confusion. 

Speaking of which, a fistfight had broken out at the base of the building Tim was stood on, and things were quickly getting bloody. He upped the volume on his com, keeping an ear out for any more serious trouble as he jumped down to take care of the situation. 

“Robin, check for gang activity along the perimeter of the area”, Dick’s voice crackled through the com as Tim delivered a kick to a gang member’s chest. Oh no. Damian was here. And if Dick was giving him orders, then Bruce must still be out of the city. Which means no one would be around to moderate their arguments. He gritted his teeth as he narrowly dodged a baseball bat. At this point he just had to cross his fingers and hope they didn’t run into each other. 

He took out another thug with his bo staff, and apparently, the rest of the group was getting the message because half of them were running over to gang up on him, and the rest had already bolted. He turned, ready to face them when a wave of nausea hit him like a brick. His vision went white for a moment and he clenched teeth shut, trying desperately not to puke on a bunch of criminals when a suddenly a blur of green and yellow cut in front of him. He stumbled back to the wall, letting whoever it was take down the violent remains of whatever gang he’d been fighting.

He took a deep breath, the nausea finally passing, and after a moment, his vison began to clear, and the figure turned to face him, its arms crossed in an annoyingly familiar manner.

“Really, this is just pathetic. It’s as if you’re going out of your way to prove my superiority.” 

_God damn it._

Tim grappled back up to the roof, refusing to acknowledge Damian’s presence. He heard a faint “tt” as he ran off. God, he never should have come out here. They didn’t need him, what was he thinking. The night was starting to quiet down, no thanks to him. He pulled his cowl off, leaving the domino on of course, and rubbed at his head to try and lessen his newly revived headache. Sweat made his hair stick uncomfortably to his neck, and he ran his fingers through it dejectedly. It was time to give up and go home before he made an even bigger fool of himself.

He dropped down into an alley, a few blocks away from where he’d run into Damian, to take a quick look around before he headed back.

_WHACK_

Something struck Tim in the back of his shoulder, and suddenly he was on the ground, his arm burning in pain. He held his arm and jumped back to his feet, stumbling backwards as quickly as he could, looking around for his assailant. 

It was one of the gang members from earlier, with the baseball back gripped in his fist. Tim had somehow managed to drop down right in front of him, and the brute had taken the opportunity for some revenge, and by the look in his eyes, he wasn’t finished. Tim’s back hit a wall. _Fuck._ He fumbled with his utility belt, looking for something, _anything_ that could get him out of this.

The man grinned, letting the bat drag on the ground threateningly, “I’ve always wanted to take a crack at one of you birds.” He raised the bat above his head and swung it down. Tim just barely had enough time to dodge out of the way as it smashed into the concrete, decimating a wooden crate on its way down. He ducked under the man’s arm, banking on a slow reaction time, and bolted. He turned out of the alley and sprinted down the street, not looking where he was going, just trying to get away as fast as possible. 

Dick’s voice came through the com again, “Red Robin. We know you’re out here, where are you.”

Of course Damian had tattled on him. The brat got some sick pleasure over anything that caused Tim trouble. He glared at the ground, resisting the urge to tell Dick to fuck off and mind his own damn business.

“Idiot, we know can hear us. Answer before you get hurt, you’re in no condition to be out on the streets right now.” Jason too. God damn it. Tim gritted his teeth and grappled up to another roof. He’d keep fighting just to spite them. 

Another jolt of pain shot down his arm as he landed, and Tim let out an involuntary gasp. He curled into himself slightly, considering letting them send him back home just so the pain would stop. A low familiar voice came from somewhere behind him.

“Aw, what a shame. Did the little bird hurt his wing?” Tim whipped his head around, searching for the source of the lilted, mocking voice. It couldn’t be who he thought it was, there was no way- 

There he was. Standing in the moonlight, a wide artificial grin on his sickeningly white face. The Joker. 

Tim shook his head stepping back, “N-no, Freeze is the only one… they said…” 

The impossible grin grew ever wider, “I wonder if you’d be as fun as the last little bird I had caught in my net?” Tim couldn’t think, his head was full of cotton, oh god what was he going to do. The Joker stepped closer, seeming to fade in and out of existence as Tim’s vision blurred. “Though I’m sure you wouldn’t be so naughty as to come back from the dead.”

Tim looked away, bracing himself for whatever attack was to come. He was going to die like this, cold and alone on a rooftop because he’d been too stubborn to stay at home. Damian was right, he wasn’t cut out for this. He never should have done this, oh god what had he been thinking. 

He waited for the attack, or for more taunts.

They never came.

He looked up hesitantly. Nothing. He hadn’t heard him leave, had he ever been there? Tim rubbed at his head. Was he really that out of it? The blurriness of the ground he was standing on seemed to suggest so. Alright. Hallucinations were his limit. He put his finger to his com. 

“Di-.. Nightwing.” Jeez, tonight sure was one of stupid mistakes.

Dick responded immediately, sounding audibly relieved, “Red! Thank god, where are you?”

Tim looked around. Everything seemed to blur together into one indistinguishable mass, “I… I’m not sure. I’m close… I think.” He rubbed at his head. “I-… I’ll take a look around.” He saw a slightly taller building a little ways away and shot a line to it, he might be able to see something from up there.

“No. Stay where you are. Don’t move-“ Too late. Tim was already in the air. 

And then he wasn’t. 

There was a flash of blue and suddenly all Tim could feel was cold. 

He was _so cold_. 

His hand let go of the grappling gun and he was falling towards the pavement. He didn’t notice when Dick caught him just in time, and he didn’t notice their landing on a nearby roof. All he could feel was a deep, soul piercing cold that permeated every fiber of his being. Dick said something that was lost in the fog that had filled Tim’s head, and placed a hand on Tim’s shoulder and then, suddenly, there was something other than the cold. _Pain_. White hot pain burned through his arm, somehow made worse by the freezing cold that had overtaken the rest of him.

Tim couldn’t tell if he’d cried out, but Dick’s hand was gone from his shoulder in an instant. He pressed his eyes shut, shivering, and tried to keep himself from hyperventilating. The cold was so familiar. He could hear his mother’s voice.

_“There’s no reason to have the heat on while we’re gone. He can use a blanket if it gets that cold.”_

Tim felt a sob escape his lips.

_He was curled up on the couch, wrapped in a cocoon of blankets and comforters from around the house. Surely, they’d be back tonight. They’d said they’d be back days ago. Tonight was the night. It had to be._

He didn’t want to be alone again. He didn’t want them to leave him.

_He climbed into his parents’ bed, in between two sets of pillows arranged to look like sleeping bodies. It would almost have been convincing if it wasn’t for how cold they were. He tried to forget the cold and pretend._

He was shaking, he couldn’t stop shaking and it hurt his arm, _it hurt so much_ , to be shaking like that. He heard someone speaking again, and tried to move towards the voice, but his body wouldn’t listen to him. He tried to speak, but all that came out was a choked sob. He didn’t care who was there, Dick, Jason, Bruce, even Damian. He just needed _someone_. He didn’t want to be alone.

He felt a hand on his forehead, and he forced his eyes open. It was Dick knelt down next to him which meant the two other figures in the background must have been Jason and Damian. Dick was saying something, and Tim forced himself to listen this time.

“-eed you to look at me, just look up at me okay I’m right here.” he sounded concerned. Tears caught in Tim’s mask blurred his vision further and irritated his eyes. He pulled at it for a moment, before Dick pulled his hand away, looking pained. “No, that has to stay on… I’m sorry.” He looked over to where Jason and Damian were standing, and his words faded too much for Tim to hear again. Jason nodded in response to whatever he’d said and walked over to them. 

Tim closed his eyes. The world spinning was making him feel sick again. He wished someone would turn up the heat. He was freezing. Someone picked him up, careful to avoid jostling his injured shoulder. Tim didn’t react, he just shivered and curled up as tightly as he could while being carried. 

Each footstep sent a sharp pain down his arm and after approximately four thousand five hundred and sixty-two steps, he’d counted, he was placed down on something soft and warm. 

Whoever had carried him from wherever-he’d-been to wherever-he-was was gone, and Tim thought, in a moment of panic, that he’d been left alone to suffer in the cold and the pain forever. He forced his eyes back open, blinking as the domino was finally pulled away. He couldn’t make out where he was. It looked familiar but his brain was foggy. There was a figure to his left, and another on his right. He wasn’t alone then, thank god. They were talking about… something. Tim could only make out a few random words of the conversation.

“…sick……Freeze…he……arm………don’t……”

He wondered if Freeze was sick. What a strange thing to be talking about. Tim thought he ought to get up and try figuring out where he was, but another wave of pain kept him where he was. He let out a nearly inaudible whimper as his arm throbbed, and both figures turned to him with concern. 

There was a sharp prick in his arm that might have made him flinch, had he been coherent, and the pain dulled as the world faded into blackness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, believe it or not I do actually like Tim, yet all I do in this fic is cause him pain. Oh well.
> 
> I should be updating fairly often for the next two weeks since I'm off for spring break and I don't have a life, so look out for that. I might not have wifi for the second week though, and if that's the case I'll still be writing, I'll just have a couple of chapters stored up.
> 
> I have decided to stretch this out and give it an actual story, so there will be more Damian and Bruce will even show up at some point, not sure when. 
> 
> Anyways, let me know what you think, or what you want to see in future chapters! Comments literally make my day every time I see them, even if they're short, so thank you so much to everyone who comments on this you guys rock!


	7. Another Doctor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to have this up sooner but i had a lot of trouble figuring out what I wanted to do with this chapter. I'm not sure I'm satisfied with it but I'm leaving home for a week tomorrow so I have to post it now, sorry if it reads a bit rushed.

“No. Stay where you are. Don’t move!” Dick’s plea resounded across the coms, but Jason could already see Tim rocketing up towards a taller building. He rolled his eyes, of course Replacement wasn’t going to start listening to them now. He moved to follow, but a blinding flash of blue suddenly obscured his vision, and Jason shot instinctively in the direction of its origin. As his vision cleared the first thing Jason saw was a body hurtling towards the pavement.

Oh god.

Tim.

He lunged forwards as if to grab him, but Dick was already diving off the rooftop, grabbing the limp body of their brother before he joined his parents in the afterlife. He watched as Dick laid the unresponsive teenager on the cement and he felt his chest seize up at how corpselike he looked.

A panicked wheezing drew Jason’s attention away from the scene in front of him, and he glanced down at the street to see Freeze collapsed on the ground with a breached helmet, surrounded by GCPD officers. Huh. So, that’s where his bullet had gone.

Jason made a mental note to tell Dick that he’d done that on purpose. 

A cry pain called his attention back to Tim, who was, to Jason’s releif, fairly Not Dead. He didn’t look far from it though, what with the ice clinging to his chest and the blue tinge to his lips and fingertips. God why hadn’t he just listened to them. A little voice in Jason’s head told him that _of course he didn’t listen to them he’s a bat_ , and he couldn’t help but feel like an idiot for ever trusting the kid to stay home alone.

Damian, who had at some point come to stand next to him, stiffened as Tim’s eyes blinked open. To the untrained eye, Damian might have looked disdainful, and Jason wouldn’t blame someone for thinking that was the case, the look on the newest Robin’s punchable little face was, well, punchable. But he recognized that pained stiffness from years of tagging alongside another Wayne with the emotional capabilities of a gargoyle. Damian was worried. 

“Hood,” Jason looked back over at Dick, who was still crouched next to Tim, now restraining his arm back as he tried deliriously to pull off his mask, “I need you to take him to the clinic. Now. Robin and I will settle things here.” Jason nodded stiffly and walked over, kneeling to pick Tim up. Dick put a hand on his arm, “Careful, his right arm’s hurt.”

Jason scoffed, “I’m always careful Dickhead.” But he made sure not to jostle his injured arm as he took the, disturbingly light, teen into his arms. Despite his care, he felt Tim wince with each step he took. Thank god Leslie was close. 

He finally arrived at the back door to the clinic, and opted to kick it in rather than knock and wait, revealing a rather stunned Dr. Leslie Thompkins. “Hey Doc,” He said, giving her a sarcastic grin through gritted teeth, “No rush, just got a frozen kid dying in my arms. No biggie.” Tim coughed, as if on cue. 

Leslie snapped into action, pulling a bag off of the hospital bed that was parked in the corner of the room. Jason laid Tim down and took a step back to shut the door behind him as she looked Tim over. Her brow furrowed as she took in Tim’s sickly appearance and steadily worsening shivering “What happened to him?”

“Freeze happened,” Jason said, stepping back to Tim’s side, “Well, actually about a month of untreated strep happened. Then Freeze shot him with some fuckin’ ice shit, and he fucked up his arm. Don’t tell B. He’s outta town and we don’t wanna worry the big man unless Replacement _actually_ drops dead.” He didn’t acknowledge the thought that Tim had come pretty close that night.

Leslie’s response was cut off by a quiet whine of pain from Tim. They both glanced down in concern before she looked back up at Jason seriously, “Hand me that syringe, then get a heated blanket from the cabinet over there.” He did as he was told. As he walked back with the blanket he watched Tim relax as she injected him with some clear solution.

“You sedated him?”

“He looked like he could use the rest. What’s most important now is warming him up before he gets hypothermic.” She replied, taking the blanket from him and covering Tim with it. Once she was satisfied with the arrangement she gave Jason a hard look, “Why on earth was he fighting Freeze if he’s been sick for a month?”

He put his hands up in defense, “He wasn’t supposed to be, he snuck out!” Leslie’s accusatory tone wasn’t helping his guilt any though, that was for sure. 

She crossed her arms, unconvinced, “Why wasn’t he receiving treatment?”

“Beats me, he was living on his own, when I found out he was sick I dragged him to the doctor. They called me earlier, said he had strep, and that it was bad. Some kind of fever.”

Leslie’s irritation turned to concern, “Rheumatic fever?”

That tone didn’t sound good. Jason bit the corner of his lip nervously, “Yeah. Is that bad?”

She looked back over at Tim’s sleeping form, still shivering from the cold, “Bad? He could be one fistfight away from heart failure.” She turned back to Jason, “Did they give you antibiotics?”

He nodded, “Haven’t had a chance to pick them up yet.”

“Go get them. Now.”

He put his hands in his pockets and walked slowly to the door, “Jeez everyone is so pushy today.”

Leslie sighed, “Jason, he could have died.”

He turned to look back at her the memory of Tim narrowly avoiding death-by-pavement still fresh in his mind, “I know.”

* * *

The first thing Tim was aware was that his right arm was completely numb. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t move it, nor could he move any of his fingers. While this should have been concerning, Tim found that, oddly, he wasn’t worried about it. He was much more concerned about the faint beeping from somewhere in the room, that seemed to drive another nail into his skull with each electronic beep.

He opened his eyes to a room that was much too bright for his headache’s liking, and tried to sit up to look around. 

“Hey- Don’t!” Someone else in the room called, but Tim had already come to the conclusion that, maybe sitting up wasn’t the best idea right now, and he let himself fall back. He turned his head to look towards whoever had spoken. At this point in time it appeared to be a misshapen blur across the room, but Tim was inclined to believe that that was due to his own inability to see properly at the moment. He blinked a few times to clear his vision, but only managed to make out that there were two distinct shapes in the room rather than one. All details were lost to him for the time being.

“Wh-…who’ssere” His question came out almost as unrecognizable as the shapes across the room. Luckily, they seemed to be better at deciphering things than he was right then, because one of them moved closer to him. 

“It’s me Timmy, it’s Dick,” He spoke softly, which Tim was grateful for, and at this distance his features were almost recognizable, “How are you feeling?”

Tim blinked a few times before he was able to process the question, “..’m feelin’…no good Dick”

The other shape laughed and Dick smiled (at least Tim was pretty sure he smiled, everything was still pretty blurry), “No kidding. I’ll take ‘no good’ for now.”

Tim frowned, he didn’t think what he’d said had been all that funny. He wished he could articulate better but his mouth felt like it was full of cotton, “my-… my arm…”

Dick’s smile faded back into concern, “Does it hurt? Jason go get the painkillers-”

“No,” Tim shook his head, “It… its… like… _gone_ ” There was probably a better way to describe it but that was the best he could do with, what he was assuming were some kind of painkillers, muddling his brain.

Another laugh from shape number two, which Tim was guessing now was Jason, “Dick don’t get all panicked, Doc said those’ll last hours.”

“Well excuse me for being worried.” Dick wasn’t smiling.

There was a sigh from across the room “That’s not what I… jeez Dickbrain why do you have to ruin all the happy moments in my life.” Dick turned to face him, “Don’t answer that, sarcasm.”

There was silence for a moment, and Tim felt oddly responsible. He grabbed clumsily at Dick’s arm with his usable hand, “...hey…hey Dick…”

He looked back down, Tim could see his face more clearly now. He looked worried. And tired. “Yeah Timmy?”

“Thanks… for saving me… sorry I… I didn’ listen..” God talking was tiring… or maybe the tiredness was the painkillers fault. He yawned.

Dick smiled again, “Don’t worry about it.” Tim decided to take him at his word. 

“I helped too you know, how come he doesn’t thank me in his delirium?”

“Obviously I’m just a better brother Jason”

“Yeah well I…” Tim closed his eyes and let his brothers’ conversation grow distant as he faded back into unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure I really like this chapter, and I'm sorry its so short I wanted it to be longer but I just ran out of time. I'm going to try to have the next chapter be longer and more substantial but hopefully this will tide you over for a week while i sort the plot out. I think I might break this into two fics, with the majority of the Damien stuff in the sequal because the more I plan it out the more it feels like an entirely separate plot.
> 
> Also a huge shoutout to tumblr user the-annoying-and-the-useless for her awesome fanart of the last chapter which you should all check out because its amazing and is 90% of the reason I actually got this chapter finished at all, so thank you so much. Link: the-annoying-and-the-useless.tumblr.com/post/158603619694
> 
> Thanks again to everyone who comments, I read every one and they all mean so much to me so thank you so so much to everyone who comments, you have no idea how big of a difference it makes.


	8. Laughter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of warning for descriptions of blood in this chapter

It was dark when Tim woke next, the room, which he now recognized as Leslie’s clinic, was only illuminated by a dimly lit computer screen on the desk. He pushed himself up into a sitting position, with some difficulty, and rubbed at his eyes with his left hand. His right was still numb. Tim hoped this was due to some kind of painkillers rather than the hard hit he’d taken from that baseball bat.

His head still felt fuzzy, but it was more manageable now. He was coherent enough to be concerned about the noises he heard outside in the alleyway. He stood, bracing himself on the wall and approached the door cautiously. His right arm lagged behind him, caught on something, blankets? He tugged it free with a grimace of annoyance. 

Tim grabbed the doorknob, hesitating as he listened. It sounded familiar… it sounded like… laughter. His breath caught in his throat. Oh god. What if the Joker had actually been there that night. And now he was here to kill him just like he’d killed Jason. 

Tim instinctively took a step back, growing more and more uneasy of whatever might be on the other side of that door. The laughter seemed to echo inside. his head, clouding his brain. He was suddenly aware of something warm and wet seeping into is sock and a familiar smell wafted up from the floor.

Blood. 

Suddenly it was all he could smell. He almost gagged. Fuck, why was there blood on the floor?! Was someone hurt? Where were Jason and Dick? The Joker had probably followed him here and killed them and now he was outside laughing about it. 

Tim looked around frantically but he couldn’t see enough, the room was too dark. He staggered back a few more steps, cupping his hands over his ear to try to drown out the noises from the alleyway. This was his fault, he should have said something, done something. He should have had a plan; he was supposed to _help_ people not get them killed! But he did, just like always just like his dad and Conner and _everyone_ he’d ever loved. They were dead and it was his fault. Bruce was going to hate him, and Damian was going to hate him even more, if that was even possible… Oh god…

A choked sob escaped his lips and he clasped his hand over his mouth. No, he couldn’t let himself be found… maybe he could still help them, maybe there was something he could still do, there had to be _something_ -

The bright fluorescent lights suddenly turned on, illuminating the room in blinding white light and momentarily distracting him from his panic. He whipped his head around to see Jason standing, hair disheveled, with his hand on the light switch. 

“Tim…?” He squinted at him, blinking the last remnants of sleep out of his eyes, “What the… what the hell?! Did you rip out your IV?!”

Tim looked down. A pulsing stream of blood flowed from the crook of his right arm onto the floor, adding to a trail that already stretched from the bed to where he was standing now. He shook his head, “I-I…. I didn’t realize…” He couldn’t help but be relieved that _he_ was the one bleeding.

Jason on the other hand, seemed to be anything _but_ relived as he dug frantically through the cabinets, grabbing a thick pack of gauze which he pressed onto Tim’s arm.

“Hold this here and _don’t fucking move_.” He pushed hurriedly into the next room, returning a moment later dragging a frazzled looking Leslie Thompson by the arm.

“Jason what are you-“ She noticed Tim, standing in a small pool of his own blood. He gave an awkward half wave, removing the gauze momentarily to do so.

Jason pushed his hair back in exasperation, “Tim, the fuck did I _just_ say?” He crossed his arms as Leslie pulled Tim back over to the bed and started untangling the IV.

Tim sat down and quickly replaced the gauze, “S-sorry.” He turned away from Jason’s incredulous look, opting instead to watch dumbly as Leslie patched up his arm and wiped away the blood that had coated his wrist. 

She shook her head, muttering to herself as she worked, “I’ll never understand why you bats can’t just leave well enough alone...”

“I didn’t do it on purpose… I thought I heard someone-” Tim suddenly remembered why he’d gotten up in the first place. He gave Jason a panicked look, “Jay I heard someone outside… I think… I thought it was…” The name caught in his throat. What was he doing? He couldn’t tell Jason he thought he saw the Joker, he’d go berserk. No. It was probably nothing. It had to be. He shook his head. “I… I just heard a noise.”

Jason frowned, unconvinced, “A noise. That got you freaked enough to rip out your IV.” 

“I didn’t rip it out, I can’t feel my arm. I just wanted to see what it was.” He glanced over at Leslie, instinctively adopting some semblance of a professional tone, “Is it normal that I can’t feel my arm, I was meaning to ask about that, that doesn’t sound normal.”

“It’s normal. You dislocated your shoulder, I numbed it so we could reset it without waking you. It should wear off in a few hours.” She finished with his arm and gave him a pointed look of disapproval, “Now what’s this I hear about untreated strep throat?”  
He looked down guiltily, “I didn’t think it was a big deal…” Jason scoffed, Tim glared at him indignantly, “I didn’t!”

“Well it was,” Leslie interjected her face deadly serious, “You could die Tim, if you don’t start taking this seriously and let yourself heal.”

Tim looked up in confusion, “What are you talking about I thought it was strep?”

“Yeah, emphasis on _was_ Timmers.” Jason crossed his arms, almost smugly Tim thought, “Turned into some wacky fever and now you’re on bedrest until its gone.”

“What?!” Tim’s head whipped back towards Leslie, “You can’t be serious.” Damian would never let him live this down. There was no way he was on _bedrest_ for a stupid sore throat!

Leslie sighed before grabbing a towel from the countertop and throwing it onto the bloody floor, “We’re serious. Your strep _nearly_ progressed into rheumatic fever,” She gave Jason a hard look, “Luckily, despite what I was initially told, it hasn’t.” She turned back to look at Tim, “Yet. But that doesn’t mean it can’t still. Two weeks bedrest. Minimum.”

Tim shook his head, more out of disbelief than actual denial, “Can I at least work on cases from my computer?”

“Can you do that and still maintain a normal sleep schedule?”

“Of course I can-“

“No he can’t,” Jason chimed in, crossing his arms, “Not on his own at least.”

Tim scoffed, “How would you know?” Jason might be acting all buddy buddy now, but that didn’t change the fact that these past few days were probably the first long term positive interaction they’d had in, hm, just about _ever_. He knew absolutely nothing about Tim’s life.

Jason grinned, which wasn’t a response Tim was expecting, nor one he liked, “I decided to do some catching up with the family while you were conked out. You know, I’d realized you hadn’t been on your own long but damn Replacement, a month is record time to screw yourself over this bad.”

Tim decided he liked Jason better when he was pretending to be worried about him, “So what are you proposing I do then, since I’m apparently unable to care for myself. Hire a babysitter?”

A look of discomfort disrupted Jason’s grin, “Well, actually, I wasn’t really going to put it like that, but Dick did ask me to… keep an eye on you for a bit so…”

Tim’s eyes widened, “Absolutely not.”

Jason gave him a sardonic smile, “It’s that or go back to the manor Mr. Near-Death-Experience”

“Yeah or I could just let myself die to get away from you assholes Mr. _Actual_ -Death-Experience,” Tim mocked bitterly. A momentary flare of the nostrils was the only indication that Jason had even heard his quip. For some reason that annoyed Tim all the more. This wasn’t Jason’s fault, but Tim needed someone to blame. He wanted to see him react, get mad, be hurt, _something_

But Jason’s tone remained frustratingly light, “So, manor or am I going to pack a bag?”

Tim scowled at him. He hated this, but dealing with Jason would be better than dealing with Bruce and Damian right now, “You’re sleeping on the couch.”

“Of course, I wouldn’t expect any charity from spoiled Mr. Drake.” Jason pushed open the door to the alley and stalked off, presumably to get some things, or possibly to blow off steam.

Tim had a feeling he was going to be paying for his sarcasm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took so long! I really don't have an excuse, I've just been crazy busy with enrolling in college and finishing up things for graduation plus I have to work 30 hours a week for my senior project so that just really takes up all my time these days. I've also been dealing with some pretty serious depression over the last few months, which hopefully is lessening up, but that's been keeping me from even trying to write until tonight. I hope this is still worth reading, and I'm seriously so sorry that its taken this long for me to post this chapter. 
> 
> Huge thanks to everyone who has ever posted a comment, or ever complimented this story on my tumblr. You are seriously the only reason I didn't scrap this story when I was down. You're the real heros here so thank you so so much.


End file.
